


In Need of Closure

by laheycharm



Category: The Society - Fandom
Genre: F/M, netflix, thesociety - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 19:11:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18857314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laheycharm/pseuds/laheycharm
Summary: It’s been months since the season one finale.It’s been two weeks since Campbell Eliot has been put in line for execution.Tomorrow, he dies.Today, Elle Tomkins will find out why he did to her what he did.





	In Need of Closure

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Allie says, looking up at Elle from her seat on the couch.

Elle takes a deep breath. “I-I need to do this.”

Allie shakes her head. “No, you don’t. What you need to do is move on. Live. Be free from him.”

Will moves across the room in a fluid motion before plopping himself down on the couch beside Allie. He gives her a tentative look and she looks back at him in wonder. 

Allie’s become curious to Will’s every storming thought since he told her he had feelings for her. Her thoughts wait for his to arise to a conclusion. She always takes him into account in every decision. 

“If Elle wants to do this, we should let her,” Will offers.

Elle looks between them. She sees the lit fire of passion that floods through their eyes as they look at one another. The gentle way Will reaches for Allie’s hand. The way his thumb swipes against her knuckles. Softly. She’s envious of them, of their relationship. Though, it may not be romantic, at least it is not tainted. 

Allie clenches her eyes shut for a passing moment before opening them back up. She stands and wipes off the thighs of her jeans. Her full attention raised on Elle, now. 

“You’re sure about this?” she asks Elle.

Elle nods hastily. Her heart beats so harshly against her chest that she can hear it. It echoes above all else. 

“Come on.” Allie leads her up the staircase. 

Elle follows until Allie stops them at one of the close doors down the hallway. 

“He’s in here. Don’t...get too close. Okay?” 

Elle nods, tucking stray hair behind her ear. “I’ll be quick.”

Allie nods, still hesitant about letting this go down. But, nonetheless, she only wants what Elle wants. If Elle wants closure, then she’ll give her closure. 

“I’ll be downstairs,” Allie tells her before walking back in the direction they came from.

Elle wraps her fingers around the doorknob but doesn’t turn it. Instead, she listens. 

She presses her ear up against the door and tries to silence her breathing enough so she can hear inside. She listens for any sound of life inside. But hears nothing. Maybe it’s because he’s not life. 

He’s death. 

Without letting herself back out of this, she twists the knob and walks inside. Closing the door behind her.

Campbell raises his head when he hears someone enter. His eyes meet Elle’s and out of instinct, he attempts to move, to get closer to her. The handcuff enclosed around her wrist stops him. 

He grunts, “Fucking thing.” He gives another futile tug. 

Elle winces upon hearing his voice.

It’s been two weeks.

Two weeks since she got her life back. Two weeks since she’s spoken to the boy who killed her from the outside in. Two weeks since she seen Campbell Eliot.

“Elle,” he starts. Her name sounds incredibly foreign on his tongue. 

She wants to turn back time. To go back to when she was invisible. To when she didn’t know him. It was hard back then but it was never this hard. 

It being living. Life. 

“What’re you doing here?” he asks, a tilt of his head, a furrow of his manic brows. 

Elle swallows. She knows she’s shaking. She wonders if he finds pleasure in it. He can probably sense it. The fear. It causes sweat to dribble down her back. The hairs on her body spike up. Her heart bangs against her rib cage like a trapped animal. 

“I wanted to...to talk to you,” she explains, inhaling sharply. She slowly treks across the room and sits on the edge of the bed across from where Campbell is stationed on the floor. 

He watches her every movement like a hawk watching prey. 

He smirks after she explains. “Really?” 

She nods, bowing her head to escape his intense stare.

“I wanted to know.”

“Know what?” he asks.

Another swallow. A pause. “Wh-why did you...Why did you hurt me? Why did you find me and tell me we were the same, move me into your house just to...hurt me? Why, Campbell?” She says it to the floorboards to hide the tears from him. 

He doesn’t say anything for a while. Even though, she’s looking down, Elle can feel his heated gaze on her. She absently wonders what he sees. 

Does he see her as his property? Some broken girl who can’t fight back? Someone’s who’s scared? Someone who wants the bruises and cuts and to be manipulated? Does he see her as a fool meant to be tricked? Does he see her as the rightfully broken girl she is? 

“Because I could. Because I can,” he finally answers. 

Her breath hitches, she moves her eyes up to meet his. “That’s not fair.” She shakes her head, panicky. 

He sighs, running his free hand over his face and hair. The scruff is growing out on his chin and above his lip. He also has bags under his eyes from lack of sleep. 

Elle wonders if he’s been worried about this. About the upcoming execution. If it scares him as much as she scares him.

“Are you gonna help me out of here? Please, baby.” He gives her his sad, doe eyes. The twitch of those soft lips. It’s his signature. And it almost makes Elle crumble.

Almost. 

She stays strong. She promised Helena she would stay strong and she will. Because she isn’t alone. Unlike Campbell. 

“No. And don’t...don’t call me that.”

He grits his teeth and flares his nostrils. 

In the blink of an eye, everything soft became steel hard. 

That’s Campbell.

When he’s happy, he’s sweet. When he’s mad, he’s evil. 

There’s no in between. 

“What do you want, Elle? Why are you here?” He tugs at the handcuffs again to no avail. 

Elle flinches. 

“I already told you.” She pauses, looking down at her lap. “When you first met me, did you always plan on...hurting me? Physically?” And emotionally, she adds in her head.

“I don’t know.”

Elle stands abruptly and points at him. Tears streak down her face. “That’s not good enough! I deserve answers. I deserve an explanation. For months, you let me lose myself. You let me believe I was this horrible person that actually deserved all those bruises and cruel words you gave me. You made me think I was the bad guy. And I believed you. I believed you because I trusted you.” She ignores the tremor in her voice as she continues. “So, why, Campbell? Why the fuck did you keep pursuing me? Wasn’t it hard?”

“That’s just it, isn’t it,” he finally says after a beat.

“What?”

“It wasn’t hard. That’s why I did it. You didn’t have anyone to run to. You didn’t want to ask for help. Stubborn.” He smiles and Elle wants nothing more to slap it off his face. “None of it was preplanned, Elle.”

Her body falls back into a seating position on the bed robotically. “I-I wonder if in the real world, we would have met.”

“We would have.” He nods with conviction.

“How are you so certain?”

He scoffs like the answer is obvious. They stare at each other and say more with their eyes than they could ever say aloud. “We’re meant to be. In every universe, we’d meet, Elle. Me and you. You and me. Against the world, always.”

Elle’s chin wobbles. “No, no, no. That’s sick. If we were meant to be, than that’s messed up. You can never be with a woman, Campbell. Not even in the same room with one.”

He arches a brow, “Oh? And why’s that?”

“Why? You wanna know why?” She stands up and walks closer to him.

A flash of something appears for seconds behind Campbell’s eyes. It looks like fear.

“This is why.” Elle grabs the bottom of her shirt and pulls it up just far enough to show her stomach. It’s purple and blue. Black, too. Marred from Campbell. “Do you remember doing this?”

Campbell’s eyes do this : look at the bruise, look at Elle’s face, look at the floor, look at the other side of the room, far away from Elle and her stomach.

Elle wasn’t having it.

“Look at me, Campbell! Look!” she yells.

He does. Reluctantly. And his eyes immediately latch to Elle’s. She keeps him there. Trapped. Giving him a taste of his own medicine.

“I remember how it happened,” she starts. “I was tired so after I got home from duty, I lied down on the couch. I just wanted to sit for one minute that’s it. But I fell asleep. I fell asleep on the couch and not upstairs in our room.” She scoffs a laugh out. “ It’s funny because I knew at that point that you were explosive and you always ticked. But I didn’t think me falling asleep on the goddamn couch would blow you up. It did, naturally. You accused me of being selfish. Of cheating on you. Told me I was lazy. Stupid. Just the whole spiel, you probably remember all the words so I won’t continue. But I cried and tried to tell you that it was a mistake. That I wouldn’t do it again. I was sorry. I kept apologizing and you know what? That was me being stupid. I was apologizing for falling asleep on the fucking couch, Campbell! Those last few days with you, I never slept. I was scared of closing my eyes with you in the same room. As if I could protect myself with my eyes open. You never gave me the chance to defend myself, anyways.”

“Elle—“

“No.” She interrupts. “Shut up. It’s my turn to speak.”

He rolls his lips into his mouth, eyes reddening. 

“Did you ever love me?” Elle whispers it, softly. Her tone much different now.

His eyes stay on her. Cast in a bored light after her question. He doesn’t say anything. Which is answer enough.

“Right.” Elle turns and walks toward the door. “Goodbye, Campbell.”

Her hand turns the knob but before it opens...

“Wait,” Campbell shouts.

Elle doesn’t turn but her hand moves off the knob.

“I-I dont know how it feels when you love someone. So, I don’t know if I love you. I’ve never...loved anyone before. And no one has ever loved me. It’s impossible to love me. I mean, you’ve met me, you’d know. I might love you, Elle. I don’t know. What I do know, though, is that I feel something different for you than everyone and anyone else. Because you’re different. You are my missing piece to my puzzle. Hurting you...wasn’t about causing pain...it was control. You frightened me in the way that it felt like one day, if you told me to jump off a cliff, I’d do it. And I didn’t want someone having that authority over me-“

“So, you hurt me?” she offers, still having her back to him.

“Yeah. I hurt you.”

She nods, clenching her eyes to stop her tears. It doesn’t work. 

“It’s not impossible,” she manages to choke out.

“What?” he asks, confused.

She doesn’t answer. Instead, she opens the door and exits the room. 

If he thinks long enough, he’ll figure out.

But now, it’s Elle time.


End file.
